


satiate / punishment

by Zakyuu



Series: Cards & Souls Event [Undertale Amino] [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Chara (Undertale), Agender Frisk (Undertale), Asgore dies, Chara is Angry, Gen, Ghosts, Morally Grey Frisk, Non-Binary Chara, Non-Binary Frisk, Possession, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader is Frisk (Undertale), Sans is the judge, Undertale Genocide Route, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakyuu/pseuds/Zakyuu
Summary: posted on Amino! under Zakyuu.for the prompt [Entrances & Exits], written for the Cards & Souls Event.
Relationships: Chara & Frisk (Undertale)
Series: Cards & Souls Event [Undertale Amino] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908355
Kudos: 18





	satiate / punishment

**Author's Note:**

> posted on Amino! under Zakyuu.
> 
> for the prompt [Entrances & Exits], written for the Cards & Souls Event.

> *****Well? Are you satisfied?** **

The words come rushing to your brain like a furious vice. It’s said as a whisper, but is as clear to you as the windows that illuminate the Judgement Hall. As daunting as the weight of burden the dust of the fallen that covers your body from head to toe.

It’s maddening.

Since you first came Underground, the voice has been there. Watching. Waiting. Narrating your every move, along with the heady judgement dripping from their voice.

“Shut up,” you mutter, breath coming up short. “Shut up, shut up, shut up --”

> *****My. Do you really have the right to be that rude with me, considering all that you’ve done?** **

You don’t reply. You can’t. And even if you could, you wouldn’t know what to say.

You don’t like how their voice taunts you. How it twists the reality around you, how it tricks you and bewitches you -- how it drives you insane.

> *****...You’re…blaming this all on ME?** **

You want to scoff. Isn’t it? Their fault. From the very first timeline you entered this place, the voice was there. It seemed harmless, at first, the product of some kind of magic here Underground.

But…you realized three timelines in that it wasn’t the case. The voice was too…structured. Too personal. Not at all how you yourself would describe your surroundings.

This voice…it belonged to a person. Dead, alive…it didn’t matter. It’s consciousness was with you, reading your every move like some grand chess master waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And you don’t know about anyone else, but you’d prefer it if you were alone in your body.

Regardless, you tried everything in your power to make them stop.

Nothing you did worked.

Then…an idea came to you. Something you’d normally never consider doing.

But Determination is such a strange trait, isn’t it? Whatever was impossible to accomplish before…You could suddenly do now.

You remember the voice slacking with restrained shock when you accidentally dusted the kind goat mother back at the RUINS. You wondered, then, what it would be like to make them go silent completely.

Still, you did not act on this urge until later on, when you were bored out of your mind, and very desperate to get rid of the voice you kept hearing but no one else did. Slowly, every so slowly, you began to gather hints of information about the voice -- whoever they were.

Or more specifically, what mattered to them.

> *****.…You….** **

Still, it seems like killing nearly everyone in the Underground did nothing to silence the voice. Oh well.

> *****...Is this some sort of sick game to you?** **

The words are soft, blending in with the winds blowing softly inside the hall. You cough as some of the skeleton’s dust drifts towards your face.

You don’t notice the words at all.

> *****We…we are not toys for you to PLAY WITH.** **

You jolt, feeling a rush of blood-chilling power coursing through your veins. What is that? It’s been half an hour since you’ve beaten the Judge. You’ve earned your Execution Points, not that it matters. You’ve reached the final level.

Suddenly, the light ahead of you seems daunting. And the silence that reigns behind you is deafening.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

You feel dread pool in your gut, but you can’t pinpoint why.

In cases like these, you feel it is best to return to the start. You’ve never been one to ignore your instincts, and now they are all but SCREAMING at you to turn back. NOW.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of thoughts about the voice and the memory of your blade striking through a bright blue parka.

You summon your power, and imagine yourself pressing a button that will RESET your entire progress. Even with all the power you accumulated, you were not able to accomplish what you desired to do. There is nothing left for you here.

> *****Or is there?** **

…At least, you would like to believe so.

However, at the very last possible second, your hand freezes.

It is inches away from the button you conjured with your magic. Your determination.

Why is it, then, that you cannot press it?

> *****I will not permit it. You will not use this dreaded power.** **

What is happening? Why can’t you move?

You struggle, squirm, and wriggle with all your might, but the effort is futile. You cannot even control a single finger.

> *****Did you honestly think, that after all this, you would be able to go back and pretend this never happened?** **

The voice’s words suddenly register to your mind. It takes you a moment to sort it out, but when you do, you are instantly indignant.

Why not? It’s within your power, isn’t it? You can control time, you can MAKE it so that this never happened!

The power that you summoned to your fingertips trickle away, and the button disappears. Your hand is let down, and the fingers curled around your knife tighten without your input.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Your feet move of their own accord, sound echoing through the room, bouncing back from the massive walls of this place.

> *****I have tolerated your actions thus far. Even if there were times that you killed an innocent monster, I believed it would be better if I did not interfere. The dead are meant to stay dead, after all.** **

Tolerate? What did the voice mean by that?

> *****I even rationalized that everything you did, you did out of self defense and curiosity. I could not blame you for that. You are a mere child, who did not know how much it hurt to see my people suffer.** **
> 
> *****And so I endured. No matter how much you took Undyne down, no matter how many times you fought my father, Asriel, mom…I tolerated it all.** **

Slowly, your control over your own actions become a fading feeling. The further you walk, the more control slips from your fingers.

You cannot fight this. Whatever this is.

You feel your fear begin to seep in. The only thing safe from whatever magic is ripping the agency of your body from you is your mind.

> *****But you wouldn’t change. No matter what I did, no matter what ANYONE did, it didn’t matter in the end.** **
> 
> *****You even managed to kill the best Judge this Kingdom has seen in over a century. And now…you want to turn back? Why? I don’t understand.** **
> 
> *****You killed them. You do not get to turn your back on that, just because you can.** **

You feel the terror in the tremors of your bones. It’s a warm, beautiful day outside, but the shivers still attack your spine.

You feel your hand drift towards the locket around your throat.

Somehow, it feels like a noose.

> *****You have committed a grievous crime against my people. My family. My HOME.** **
> 
> *****And you will face the consequences.** **

You would blink if you could. Their home? Their family? What do they mean?

> *****You cannot honestly think that I would let you get away with this?** **

…

Who…are you?

* * *

Asgore stands by his throne, humming a tune that, while sounding cheerful at first, holds an undertone that is somewhat ominous.

“Dad, please,” the flower before him sobs, tugging uselessly at his cape. “The human is almost here, you NEED to get out before they catch you!”

It was certainly a surprise, to find that this flower was his once dead son. The questions he had were dismissed, and he guessed that Asriel did not want to talk about them at the current moment.

Asriel seems almost distressed. Perhaps he is.

Asgore is a kind and just ruler. But he is no fool.

He would recognize the sounds of Sans’ blasters anywhere.

But he was not alarmed.

The skeleton had made it very clear that if he ever used that attack, then it would mean a certain end.

And indeed, it was.

His son made a frustrated noise before diving into the soil. Asgore watched him go, a pang of ache and sadness seeping through his chest.

How the years have changed him. Changed them all.

“Please... _please don’t kill me, Chara!_ ”

His head had never before whirled around this fast.

The gait of his cape and the sudden movement of his paws disturbed the peacefully swaying flowers, sending them into an artful disarray, beguiling the danger that was to come.

Asgore stood, face to face with a human.

A human that both resembled his fallen child, and barely looked similar to them at all.

Speckles of dust decorated their sweater, torn and worn at the edges. Hair shadows the face, with crimson blood peeking out from underneath. There is a knife in their hands.

It is coated with dust.

Even if his instinct are all but urging him to move, to strike down the threat in front of him, Asgore kneels down to their level and offers them a kind smile.

"Well, hello there," he greets. "What kind of monster are you?"

The human - can it even really be called that, at this point? Takes a step closer, brandishing their knife expertly. It is obvious what their intentions are.

Asgore puts up placating hands in front of him. "Now now," he says. "There's no need to fight. Why don'twe settle this over a nice cup of—"

He never does get to finish that sentence.

* * *

No, no, no, stop it. Enough. Turn back. You're done with this run. You don't want to go back there.

> *****How adorable. You still think you're in control.** **

The voice speaks up at last, answering your pleas and cries with an amused lilt to their tone.

It doesn't sit well with you.

You try in vain to snatch control over your body back.

You can't.

> *****Determination is such a funny thing, isn't it? It is so very powerful...and yet...** **

The voice pauses, and the strides your body makes stops along with it.

There is a contemplative feeling coming from the back of your head. The voice is thinking.

You still can't wrestle away from their influence, even while distracted. They've got a far too tight grip on your body. It is no use.

> *****One little thing, one faltered step, and a human with more determination than you can snatch that power you hold so dear away from you.** **

Another...human?

...

No...

That's not...

That can't be true! You are the only human in this Underground!

> *****And that shows me how very naive you are. How ignorant. Come now, surely you've heard of me?** **

You slowly make your way past the throne room, towards the barrier. You don't bother saving.

It seems the voice thinks there is no point to it now. There is a sense of finality in their movements.

The ease of which they navigate Asgore's home does not escape your notice. It is like they've been here before.

> *****...ha ha. I have been here before.** **

The confirmation makes you reel back in shock. Well, not literally. Your body does not break its momentum even as you are feeling faint.

They can't mean...

Can they?

But that's impossible. The first human is —

> *****Finally.** **

You reach a point where the barrier is but a mere speck in your vision. There is nothing but blackness surrounding your very being.

You...are terrified.

> *****Have you figured out who I am yet, Frisk?** **

You have. 

But the answer you come up with is impossible to be true.

The dead cannot return from the grave. Not after they long sine passed away.

But you remember a saying, narrated to you once.

_Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth._

This shakes you to your very SOUL.

All this time they were watching. Everything you did. Everything you accomplished. They saw everything.

Your body freezes up. You don't realize that you have your control back. It is too late. You cannot do anything in this void, empty place.

You are filled with terror.

...

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot something. A flash of green and yellow.

There is another person here.

How?

They look almost exactly like you.

Same height, same facial structure, even the same gait in walking.

But the other has lips stretched into a pleasant smile, cheeks rosy and eyes as red as the blood on your fingertips.

Their own hands are settled behind their back, and their smile seems to stretch wider when they catch sight of you.

That smile does not reassure you. In fact, it only serves to frighten you even further.

You cannot move. You cannot speak. The only thing you can do is watch in horror as the person approaches you, head tilted and eyes gleaming.

> *****Greetings. I am Chara. But you already knew that.** **

To get confirmation is like getting slapped in the face repeatedly in cold water.

> *****It seems to me that you think you are above consequences. Let me rectify that train of thought.** **

You try to run away. To scream, call for help, ANYTHING to get you away from this person.

> *****Oh, Frisk. You never cease to entertain me.** **

Chara approaches you slowly. To your horror, black goopy liquid begins trailing down their face, coating their skin in a sickly dark hue.

Their eyes bleed red, and they somehow glow in this void of nothingness.

> *****My, am I scaring you?** **

A hand cups your cheek, and even though you want to, you cannot jerk away from their hold.

They are too powerful.

You LET them become too powerful.

And now, you can never regain your control back.

The demon seems to tilt their head again. It is questioning, inquiring.

> *****How curious.** **

The demon laughs, and the grip on your chin becomes painfully bruising.

> *****Since when were YOU the one in CONTROL?** **

They laugh, and laugh, and laugh as the darkness finally envelopes you whole.

You cry. You scream out.

You try to call for help.

..

...

....

*****But nobody came.** **

*****And that's your fault, isn't it?** **

**Author's Note:**

> How I adore how deeply morally complex Undertale can be.


End file.
